


Critical Pressure

by Minxie



Series: Chase/Josh verse [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dive Fic, KINK: D/s, KINK: flogging, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minxie/pseuds/Minxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faced with a multitude of changes, Josh needs to be taken out of his head. Chase is more than happy to indulge him. Also known as the boat scene mentioned in <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/394940">Uncontrolled Descent</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Critical Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> **Prereaders:** @aislinntlc, @leela_cat, @shinyredrain  
>  **AN:** Set months after [Uncontrolled Descent](http://archiveofourown.org/works/394940). Reading that first might be helpful. ;-) For @thraceadams, hope you like it, bb! ♥

Locking the door behind him, Josh tosses his keys onto the kitchen counter and starts stripping down. He's officially been unemployed for two hours and he's already losing his mind. He's pretty sure he'll be lunatic crazy in a matter of days, never mind the two months he has before his new job is set to begin. 

Naked, he perches in the window seat and watches the tide go out. The constant motion of the waves gives him something to match his breathing to. Slow and steady. In and out. It helps. Some. A little. 

Not really at all. 

His mind is a whirling kaleidoscope of what-if and should've-done. It's a nonstop loop of wondering how this extended vacation is going to affect his savings account and thinking about how he's going to fill his days and worrying about how this sudden togetherness is going to fuck up what he's building with Chase.

He's _really_ worried about the possible fallout with Chase.

It's too soon for them to move in together. Seven months isn't really that long, not when you factor in their jobs and the commute times and the fucking intensity – _the dynamics_ – of their relationship. Seven months. He'd give his left nut for seven more before having to make this move. Especially since the motivating factor wasn't a desire to share space, but simply a way to cut his expenses. 

Sighing, Josh leans his forehead against the window and closes his eyes.

He's buying trouble. He knows that deep down. Chase isn't the type of man to offer something he isn't willing to give. If Chase didn't want Josh here fulltime, he'd have offered up his boat. Or, more likely, Chase would've offered the house to Josh and then he'd have escaped to his boat. 

Except, Josh reminds himself, Chase never mentioned Josh moving in until the funding for the grant got pulled. 

"Fuck this," Josh mutters. "Fuck all of this. Just need to breathe."

It's a lie. Josh knows it. He needs so much more than to just breathe. He needs grounding, to be taken out of his head and not have to, _not be able to_ , think about all of this shit.

"Maybe," Josh says. "Maybe that's what'll happen when Chase gets home."

Maybe he'll get worked over hard and heavy, and then held tight and close, and… and… and then none of it will matter for a just little while.

Until then, though, he just needs to breathe.

*

The sound of a slamming car door draws Josh out of his musings. He slides from the window seat and kneels on the floor, his back straight and his eyes lowered, hands resting on his thighs. It's not how he usually greets Chase. 

But it's been anything but a usual day.

His body goes tight with nervous tension when he hears the door open, then relaxes minutely when Chase sucks in an audible breath. Josh relaxes completely when Chase drops into the chair beside him and drags his fingers through Josh's hair. "Hey there, pretty."

Lips quirking, Josh looks up and says, "Hi."

Concern flitters through Chase's eyes. "When'd you get in?"

"'Bout an hour ago." 

Chase arches a brow. "Been like this the whole time?"

"Naked, yes, but I haven't been on my knees the whole time," Josh says. "Spent most of it on my butt watching the water."

"Hard day?"

Josh licks his lips, stalling. He doesn't want to be a burden. "Yeah, a little."

"Because of the job or because of moving in here?"

Shrugging, Josh drops his gaze. "Some of both. Plus some other stuff."

Chase tugs on Josh's hair. Taking the hint, Josh moves from the floor to Chase's lap. "Anxious?"

Josh shakes his head in the negative. The lie lasts as long as it takes for him to open his mouth. "A little. But excited too, yanno?"

"I do." Chase massages the length of Josh's spine. Shuddering, Josh goes boneless against Chase's chest. "I feel the same way. Excited, looking forward to having you here with me every night. But, I can't help but be nervous too. What if I fuck it up, what if you realize I'm not what you need?"

Josh jerks back, ready to argue. There is no way Chase isn't what he needs. "What if it's me who doesn't make the grade?" 

"And what if it's neither of us?" Chase says, shrugging. "What if we're both worried for no reason? What if we're making a mountain out of a mole hill?"

"Is that what you think this is?"

Chase huffs a quiet laugh. "Honestly, yeah, I do. I think that what we have is good and solid, but this is big. That's making us see shadows where there are none. We just have to ignore our imaginations and focus on us, let all the rest fall into place naturally."

"Easier said than done," Josh mutters.

"No," Chase responds softly. "What's easier is to simply begin." He nudges Josh off of his lap, saying, "Kneel for me." 

Goosebumps break over Josh's skin. The voice – and the demand – is something he recognizes. Settling on his knees, he says, "Sir."

"Good boy," Chase says, stroking a hand through Josh's hair. "I'm on stand down for the next week, thought we might need some time to talk and adjust."

Surprise, followed immediately by emotional warmth, rushes through Josh. "Okay."

"Figured we could take _An Easy Day_ out, spend a week of days on the water. Find our footing with no one else around."

Words from the past – _I want to make you scream. Want to hear all of your noises – all of the begging and the pleading, the little hitch that happens right before you come – I want it all and I want it on the water, where there is nothing to slow it down, to buffer it._ – echo through Josh's mind. He swallows back on the swell of hope rising in him. He can't stop himself from asking, though. "Sir, are we… the whip?"

Looking outright smug, Chase nods. "If there was ever time you'd need to be taken down hard, guessed this would be it. Agreed?"

"Oh, fuck, yeah." Anticipation buzzes over Josh's skin, sparking in his balls and spiraling out.

Laughing, Chase shakes his head. "You need to rein it in and listen to me, boy. I'm not expecting anything to go sideways, but we will be out on the water on our own. This is not the time for you to test yourself."

"No, sir," Josh says.

"You have your safe word." Chase holds up a hand, and Josh's bites off his response. "We'll also be using color markers. Red, yellow, green. If you don't give me one when I ask for it, we stop and return to shore."

Josh nods once. It makes sense. He's all for safety in their play.

"We're fully stocked, food, water, and first aid. We'll have the radio and sat phone, if needed. No tanks because I don't want the temptation of diving getting in the way."

It's taking all that Josh has to remain still, to not let the eagerness vibrate him across the floor.

"Just us, just this. Is this what you want, Joshua?"

"Yes," Josh answers quickly. Unequivocally. "Fuck, yes, _please_."

Chase smiles. It's a crazy mash-up of devilment and promise, of mischief and seduction. It still makes Josh weak in the knees. 

"Come on, pretty," Chase says, holding out a hand to Josh. "Go put some trunks on so we can get out of here. There're miles of ocean waiting on us."

*

A hand drags through Josh's hair. "Hey there, sleepyhead. It's time to get up."

Grunting, Josh rubs his face against his pillow.

"You've already missed sunrise, Joshua," Chase says, rubbing Josh's shoulders and back. "No reason to sleep through lunch, too." 

Without opening his eyes, Josh rolls over and stretches. He'd be more than happy to laze around in the bed all day. 

"Pretty." Chase taps a finger against the length of Josh's very firm dick. "We'll have to see how long you can maintain that today."

Josh's toes curl. That shouldn't sound as good as it does. Groaning, he blinks his eyes open. "Coffee first, sir?"

Chase presses a finger against Josh's lips. "Hush. No talking. Today is for you to find your center."

Quiet days are hard for Josh. Easier than not being able to touch Chase, but hard all the same. Closing his eyes, Josh counts off to ten in his head, preparing himself for a day finding a deep subspace. He takes a deep breath and then opens his eyes, smiling when he sees approval in Chase's eyes.

"Hit the head and meet me topside, boy," Chase says, a hand running slow over Josh's arm. "Coffee and food." Chase drops his gaze to Josh's dick and smirks. "And then _maybe_ we'll see about taking care of your problem."

*

Josh stumbles to a stop and stares. He cuts his glance to Chase and then right back to the addition to the bow: two spit-shiny poles, both equipped with dangling lengths of chain and heavy rings wrapped in leather. Josh _can't_ look away.

The promise of what they represent is making his dick hard and his heart race He's enthralled by the sight, aching and wanting so damned much. Suddenly the demand for silence makes a fuck of a lot more sense.

"They're secure," Chase says, motioning to two poles attached to the railing. 

Looking at Chase, Josh nods. He never thought they wouldn't be. He trusts Chase to make sure of things like that. 

"You want a closer look?"

Shaking his head – because, _god_ , he doesn't want to look at them, he wants to be hanging from them and he knows, fucking _knows_ , he's not in the right headspace for that yet – Josh steps closer to Chase. 

Chase squeezes the back of Josh's neck. "Easy, Joshua. Nothing happens until you're ready for it."

Josh's stomach rumbles, redirecting them both. He can't think of time when he's been happy, versus embarrassed, to have his body gurgling and grumbling.

Amusement lacing his words, Chase says, "Food, now."

Walking beside Chase, Josh keeps his gaze locked on the rings hanging at the ends of the chains. His mind is filled with a tumbling chorus of _Jesus_ , fuck, _yes_.

His slide into subspace has begun.

*

Josh stretches and yawns. He's loose-limbed relaxed and sun-kissed warm, lost in the freedom of just being. His gaze skates over the empty plate and the kneeling pillow beside the table, and, thinking about brunch, about being fed and petted, his eyes close for a second and a satisfied smile curls the edges of his lips. Then, like a beacon, his attention is drawn to the set-up on the bow. Forgetting about the no talking rule, Josh whispers, "Please."

"Hush, boy," Chase murmurs in his ear. "That one's free, the next slip will cost you."

Swallowing back a groan, Josh rolls until he's facing Chase. He's got to break the hold those damned poles have on him, and the only way he knows how to do it is by focusing on something more interesting. 

A look of understanding settles on Chase's face and he pulls Josh close. "You're ready. It's not just something you want anymore, but now it's something you need."

A wordless whimper bubbles up in Josh's throat. Need. Fuck, how he needs. 

"Give me your safeword, Joshua."

"Shark, Sir." His voice is deeper than usual, the words coming out in a lazy drawl of contentment.

With a hand guiding Josh, Chase rolls until they're sitting up. Pushing to a stand, he holds out a hand. "Come on, it's time."

Heady with a maelstrom of emotions – excitement and need, anxiety and desire, pure fucking _want_ – Josh moves to the bow, stopping when he's between the two poles.

Chase's fingers dance lightly over his back. "Grab the rings and settle your weight."

Josh grabs both rings and widens his stance. The rings are at the perfect height. Surprise flitters through him, skittering away as fast as it arrived. He should've expected Chase to have everything at the right height; the man is a perfectionist. Shifting again, he takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. 

"Good?"

"Yes." A tremble races through Josh. "Yes, Sir."

Chase pushes in tight against Josh's back. "I'm not chaining you, Joshua. You're going to maintain because this is where I want you, because it's where you want to be. Because you don't want to let go."

Dropping his head forward, Josh moans. What began as a slow slide into subspace has turned into a headlong free fall. It's glorious, and exactly what he's been jonesing for.

"You need a break, tell me." Chase's breath ghosts hot over Josh's ear. "You let go without saying something and I will tan your ass."

"Won't let go," Josh says, the words overlapping together.

"Good boy. Now," Chase steps back, "let's work."

*

The first smack of the flogger is light. A barely there meeting of leather to skin that makes Josh want to curse in frustration. He tenses and bites his bottom lip, stopping the rush of a demand before it can start.

Chase'll get him there in his own time. Bitching will just slow the process down.

Slowly, as the sun dips below the horizon and the running lights fill the deck with a blue glow, warmth builds in Josh's back. 

He falls into the steady cadence Chase sets, matching his breathing to each swing of the flogger, riding the ache in his shoulders and in his back, and in his balls. With a shudder, his entire body goes lax. Holding on to the rings becomes an effort.

"That's it," Chase murmurs. "That's what we've been looking for."

The next blow lands harder on Josh's back, the lashes of the flogger stinging his sensitized flesh.

"Oh!" Josh cries out. "Oh, _fuck_."

"Yeah," Chase says, sounding breathless and smug and so goddamned aroused that Josh releases a wanton moan. "Let me hear what I'm doing to you."

There's no rhyme or reason, no pattern to each stinging kiss of the flogger. Josh can't predict where the next tiny explosion of hurt is going to be. 

It's a delicious assault on his senses. 

Muscles trembling, Josh mumbles his displeasure when Chase stops. "No, don't. Not yet."

Beneath the sound of the whip snapping in the air, Josh almost misses the whispered, "Give me a color, pretty."

"Green," Josh replies. "So fucking green, Sir."

"Five, pretty boy."

The way he's feeling, Josh would agree to twice that. "Yes, _please_."

The whip cracks in the air again, and Josh shudders. 

"Don't you dare come."

Closing his eyes, Josh shakes his head. "No, Sir. I won't."

He hopes he won't. It's an iffy thing.

There're four hits in rapid succession. Two to each shoulder. Too fast for Josh to catch his breath, too fast for him to register anything other than sound of the whip. 

And then the pain seeps in and Josh's entire world goes hazy. Single lines of heat run from his shoulders to his back, converging and twisting into a thick rope of fire zipping down his spine and slamming into his balls.

Precome oozes from his slit and his sac draws up tight. Not coming becomes a hope and prayer.

All Josh can hear is the heavy thud of his heartbeat, the harsh rasps of his breathing. His lips move with a silent mantra of _more_ and _please_ and _oh, oh, fuck_.

He waits for the final taste of the whip. But it doesn't come. 

Chase presses against Josh's back and nips the edge of his ear. "Bleed for me?"

" _God._ " Josh's cock, slick with precome, jerks. "Yes. Fuck, please."

"Thank you," Chase whispers, then steps away.

Josh hears the whip skim across the deck and break through the air. It cuts sharp and bright across the double set of marks on his right shoulder blade. 

Arching his back, he sways on his feet and shouts, "Yes, fuck, shit," and then, softer, "yes."

Before the echo of the last word fades away, the whip clatters against the deck and Chase wraps an arm around Josh's waist. 

"Perfect. You are fucking perfect," Chase growls. His tongue drags rough over the last mark, the mix of sweat and saliva stinging the broken skin, and he closes his hand tight around Josh's cock. Stroking the length, pressing his thumb against the slit, he says, "Come, boy."

With a tear rolling over his cheek, Josh gives over to his orgasm, streaking the polished deck with his release. 

*

"I've got you," Chase says, arms tight around Josh. "Lean back on me."

Josh sags back against Chase, hissing at the sting the pressure brings. 

"Too much?" Chase asks, scooping Josh up and cradling him against his chest.

"No," Josh slurs. "Nowhere near too much."

Chase sets Josh on the lounger. "Lay down, pretty. Let me check your back out."

Lying on his stomach, Josh sighs and relaxes into the cushion. He's floating. High on life and endorphins. Chase is the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

Time clicks off, counted not in minutes and seconds but in the swipes of a cool, damp rag along his back. Josh hums, pushing into the gentle touch. "Thank you, Sir."

"Thank _you_ , Joshua," Chase returns. "Gonna let me hold you now?" 

Josh mumbles and rolls to his side, draping himself across Chase's side as soon as his lover lies down beside him.

Smiling, he takes a few slow breaths and, meaning to just rest for a little bit, falls into a deep sleep.

*

Josh wakes up when the rising sun is shooting tendrils of pink and orange through the dusky purple of dawn. He's achy and sore and lethargic and so goddamned _pleased_. Pleased with himself and with Chase and with the whole wide fucking world. 

It's a very good day to be Joshua Wilkerson. 

"Awake, pretty?"

Blinking, Josh nods, unwilling to move from his boneless sprawl across Chase's chest.

Chase massages the small of Josh's back gently. "Last night was…"

"Last night," Josh whispers, "was awesome. Like a deep water dive times ten."

"Yeah," Chase says. "Exactly like that."

Thinking about the night before, Josh's eyes go wide. "You didn't…"

"I most certainly did. In my damned shorts like an out of control teenager."

Josh snorts with amusement. He's kind of impressed with himself for that. "Okay, then."

"Ready to tell me what really has you so cranked up?"

Riding the rise and fall of Chase's chest, Josh shrugs. He swallows against the dryness of his throat and whispers, "It was nothing."

Dragging his hands up Josh's back, Chase fingers the whip marks on Josh's shoulder.

Little bolts of lightning strike over Josh's back, and he hisses. And moans.

"Wanna try that again, boy?"

"You…" Josh stops and takes a deep breath. "Why'd you ask me to move in? Was it just because of the job?"

"Hold on," Chase says, and then he flips them over, trapping Josh between the lounge and the heavy weight of his body. "Let's get this straight right now, I gave up doing what other people wanted the day I left the Navy. If I didn't want you with me, in _our_ home, _our_ bed, I'd have found a different work around. I'm resourceful like that."

Josh closes his eyes, the hot rush of shame bursting across his cheeks.

"The job… It kicked me in my ass, Josh," Chase says. "It gave me an opening to ask for something I've been thinking about, been wanting, for a couple of months now. We need to talk when we get back to shore, make some decisions, some changes to our contract that reflect the new living arrangements. But, this… this wasn't something I did because I felt like I should. I asked because it's what I want, what we need." 

Opening his eyes, Josh asks, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Chase busses a kiss over Josh's forehead. "We clear now?"

"Crystal."

"Good." Chase leans over the edge of the lounger and, stretching an arm out, snags Josh's pillow from beside the table. "Because, really, I missed out on using your mouth last night. You owe me, boy."

A burst of laughter bubbles out of Josh. Sliding off of the lounger and onto his kneeling pillow, he leans forward and nuzzles Chase's cock. He's content. Peaceful and happy and looking forward to what the next few days – weeks, months, _years_ – may bring.

And maybe, he thinks as he swallows around Chase's cock, maybe he can get another taste of that whip before they head back to land and the real world waiting for them there.

∴ ◊ ∴ ◊ ∴


End file.
